


Hit The Books

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Belting, College AU, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Power Imbalance, Spanking, professor/student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 01:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: “You now what I miss? I miss the days when people used books as sources. Books are great. You can’t go wrong with books. There’s nothing that beats the smell, the feel….”Ryan visits Professor Shane Madej's office outside of office hours, to dispute a grade. It doesn't go how he expects.





	Hit The Books

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the folks in the Shyan discord. Y'all are a bad influence. <3

Ryan was walking by the history building when he saw the light on.

It was… who even knew what time it was, but it was dark, and there was a single light on.

Was that… Professor Madej’s room?

Yeah.

Yeah, it was, because there was that stupid Bigfoot plushie that had someone had bought the professor as a joke.

Ryan kinda wished that had been him, if only so that he could see the look on the professor’s face.

Professor Madej was a nice enough guy - he sat backwards in chairs, and seemed to be try to be friendly with his students.

But _goddamn_ did the professor have a stick up his ass.

Case in point: letting everyone choose their own research project, then outright dismissing Ryan’s paper with “ghosts don’t exist.”

Ryan had needed to rewrite the whole damn paper!

And okay, so Ryan had… possibly indulged in a bit more alcohol than he was strictly supposed to, but… well, it was late.

It was late, Ryan was tipsy, and Professor Madej was awake.

Maybe Ryan could try to persuade the professor into at least giving him some extra credit, right? 

He shivered - he still wasn’t used to all of that snow, and it was up to his shins. 

His feet were cold - he’d bought a bunch of warm clothes, as soon as he’d found out he was going to a university in the middle of Illinois, but… well, all this _snow_.

He was shivering, stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together as he slipped into the history building.

The building, which was almost entirely empty - he passed a single janitor, and the motion activated lights in the hallway turned on, then shut off as he made his way along them.

It was… downright eerie.

Maybe he watched too many horror movies, but he half expected a zombie to come jumping out at him.

The door to Professor Madej’s office was open, and the light spilling out of it looked a bit like honey, or maybe maple syrup, glowing golden. 

Ryan paused, right outside the light, and then he cleared his throat, and he knocked on the doorframe.

Professor Madej was leaning back in his chair, his sleeves rolled back, a book in his long fingers.

He looked up at Ryan, and he just… quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s one in the morning,” Professor Madej said. “What are you doing in my office?” 

“I mean,” said Ryan, “I could ask you the same question.”

“My brother is coming to visit me, I’ve got to be up to pick him up from the airport at six in the morning, and we’re closer to the airport here. So I figured I’d just stay in my office, grade papers, get some reading in, then pick him up and collapse in my own bed, without having to go home, go to bed, get up, and repeat.”

“Oh,” said Ryan. 

That made sense. 

“So that brings me back to my original question,” said Professor Madej, and he was sitting up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why are you here?”

“Well,” said Ryan, and he swallowed, his throat clicking, “I was, uh… I was walking by your office, and I saw that you were in….”

“Yes?”

Professor had a way of turning silence into a vacuum. 

You just wanted to fill it, or else it would suck in something important.

Like your soul. 

So of course, Ryan started talking.

“I was, uh, I was thinking about how, um. Since I put all that work into my first paper, and you were saying that my second one wasn’t up to snuff, or at least, as up to snuff as first one….”

“The first one was very well researched,” Professor Madej agreed, “but it was based on bullshit, so I can’t give you any credit.”

“But it’s _not_ bullshit,” Ryan protested.

It was getting warm - he unwrapped his scarf, unzipped his jacket, and he gave a sigh of relief, as the cooler air hit his sweaty jersey. 

“There is absolutely no scientific proof that ghosts exist,” Professor Madej said, and he sounded downright _bored_. 

“But if you’d read the paper -”

“I read the paper,” Professor Madej said. “If you had cited some credible sources - “

“Those were credible sources!”

“No. No, they were very much not,” said Professor Madej.

He looked… annoyed, and there was something weirdly gratifying about that. 

It was nice to know that something could get under the bastard’s skin sometimes. 

Ryan shrugged out of his coat, draping it over a chair, and he rubbed his hands over his arms.

He was simultaneously sweating and chilled.

God, he missed California. 

“What made them… not credible?”

Professor Madej was… holy shit.

He was standing up, and Ryan forgot just how _tall_ Professor Madej was, because they were usually separated - Ryan sat towards the back of the lecture hall, and it was all at an angle.

But now they were in each other’s space, almost nose to nose, and Ryan… Ryan’s heart was beating very fast.

He was… he was very aware of the fact that his professor was a lot better looking than he had a right to look, and he was… fuck. 

Um.

Ryan licked his lips. 

The professor was looking down at him, one eyebrow up.

There wasn’t that much of an age difference between the two of them.

Sure, there was the lived experience thing - one of them was a professor, one of them was a student… but it couldn’t be that different, could it?

Ryan could imagine going to a bar, seeing Professor Madej as… well, not a professor, maybe offering to buy him a drink, or give him a blowjob in the bathroom.

… okay, so that might have been a bit of a recent development, but who didn’t discover new things about themselves in college, right? 

And Ryan was suddenly very aware that he was alone in a building with a very good looking man, who was also his professor.

Ryan was drunk.

Ryan was drunk, and he was sweating, and he was getting hard in his long johns and his jeans, which he was also sweating through, and this was all complicated.

“Ryan,” the professor said, and his voice was… something, “I’m surprised you came here this late. People might talk.”

“What would they say?”

Ryan wanted to kiss his professor. 

Wanted to kiss his professor, fuck his professor over the edge of the desk, he… oh wow.

The whole “dude lust” thing was a… fairly recent development.

Or maybe it was just him acknowledging it.

Oh god.

He was screaming a little inside, but it wasn’t exactly a bad screaming.

“They might say that you wouldn’t know a good source if it hit you in the ass,” said the professor, and then he was stepping back, leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

He looked… he looked like he was practically restraining himself, clinging to his own arms. 

“I’d know a good source if it hit me in the ass,” Ryan argued. 

“Is that so?”

Ryan was… stepping into something.

He didn’t know what it was.

There was terror in the back of his mind, gibbering like something out of a Lovecraft novel.

… he’d referenced Lovecraft for the paper, come to think of it, but only stylistically. 

For the quote at the beginning, before he started the paper.

Um.

Fuck.

He was beginning to shake, just a bit. 

The professor had rolled the sleeves of his dark blue shirt, and his tie was like a dash of redness, right down his chest, like someone had cut him open.

Wow, Ryan was being poetic.

Alcohol did interesting things to him, it seemed.

Or maybe he was tired.

Or… something

Um.

“Professor?”

“Ryan,” the Professor said, and he looked… well, Ryan couldn’t read his face, “Ryan, how would you react if I asked you to close the door?”

Ryan wasn’t even thinking; he just… turned around, closed the door. 

He even locked it. 

The hallway would be one long dark corridor now, which would probably be eerie as fuck to walk down.

Ryan licked his lips, and he looked expectantly up at his professor.

“If I let this go much farther,” the professor said, “I will possibly lose my job, and my reputation.”

“Are you going to ask me to leave?”

“I probably should.”

“That’s not a yes or a no,” Ryan said. “You said yourself, we have to… we have to be decisive. No passive voice or anything.”

“No passive - oh my god, Ryan.” 

The professor sounded legitimately annoyed at that, and Ryan was weirdly proud of that.

Even though he seemed to be walking in to some situation that he hadn’t even planned for.

Then again, he did that a lot, didn’t he?

“What? That’s one of your rules!”

“See, this is what I was fucking talking about. No good sources. No defending your argument in a way that makes sense.”

And then… Ryan was being grabbed by the collar of his shirt, and he was being dragged to the professor’s desk.

The professor was just… bending him over the desk.

Oh god.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been bent over a desk, but a… professor’s desk… that was a first. 

Fuck. 

He was bent over a professor’s desk, and he was… shaking.

He was breathing, and he was aware of all the different sorts of fucked up that this was, but… fuck it.

Fuck it all. 

He was… what was he even doing?

What the fuck was he going to do?

“I’m going to make you learn a proper source,” said the professor, and then… he was pressed against Ryan, and fuck, the professor had an erection, oh god. 

“Do I have to do it… MLA sourced?”

“You know it,” said the professor, and his forehead was pressed into Ryan’s back. “God, I’ve… seen you.”

“You’re seeing me right now,” Ryan said. 

Professor Madej’s hands were at Ryan’s waist, unbuckling Ryan’s belt. 

They were… they were deft, and then they were pulling down Ryan’s jeans, and then… pausing.

“Are these printed with little snowflakes?”

He tugged on Ryan's longjohns.

“They were the only ones in my size,” Ryan mumbled.

The professor made an amused noise, and down they went, around Ryan’s thighs.

Leaving… Ryan’s underwear.

A pair of black briefs. 

“I don’t… I don’t look at my students in class,” Professor Madej said, and there was an almost manic edge to his voice, as he ground his hips forward, against Ryan’s ass. “I want to make that clear.”

“So when were you looking at me?”

Ryan ground back, and then he made a startled noise, as the professor’s thumbs were sliding under the waistband of Ryan’s underwear, shoving it down, and... there was Ryan’s cock, hard, springing up to press against his belly, and it was… drooling down the shaft, and it was going to drip on the professor’s floor, oh god.

The professor wrapped a hand around Ryan’s cock, gave it a squeeze, and then it was off, and the professor was putting a hand on the back of Ryan’s head, forcing it into the desk, and that was… that was more forceful than it needed to be.

Fuck.

He was shaking.

What was about to happen?

… shit, was he about to get fucked up the ass by his professor?

Fuck.

Um.

And then the professor was standing up.

“You now what I miss? I miss the days when people used _books_ as sources. Books are great. You can’t go wrong with books. There’s nothing that beats the smell, the feel….”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

Professor Madej had gone on this tear before.

“The heft,” said the professor, and then something solid was hitting Ryan on the ass.

It was… it was an intense hit.

He hadn’t expected that hit, because… well, fuck. 

He hadn’t been spanked since he was very small, he hadn’t been spanked _with_ something since… well, ever, and now he was being spanked with… a book?!

“What are you hitting me with?”

“The Bill of Rights, the Federalist Papers, the Magna Carta… I think some other stuff, too.”

Another hit, and Ryan bit back a yelp.

Fuck, that was a hard hit.

There was… a whole bunch of hits, raining down on him, and it was… loud, and the humiliation of it was making his whole face turn darker, made him grind back against Shane, made his toes curl in his winter boots.

He was sweating, down his back, down the backs of his knees, even down his sides.

His shirt was sticking to his back, and his toes were going to prune up if he kept this up. 

Oh god.

Why was he so anxious?

And then there was another hit. 

Another hit, and it was… it was harder, and his head tilted back, his mouth falling open.

The hits rained down - Ryan’s ass was going to be purple, at this rate, as it was hit after hit after hit, enough to make his eyes roll back in his skull. 

“That.. hurts. I think that might be the Pax Romana.”

“The Pax Romana? Are you fucking _kidding_ me?” 

More hits - a hit hard enough, right across Ryan’s ass, and that… made things shake, made things shudder, made everything happen at once, except his whole body was on edge.

Oh fuck.

How was he so horny?

He wanted to be fucked.

He wanted to be… taken, right here on the professor’s desk, where the light was like honey.

“So are you going to remember how to cite now?”

“I could always use a refresher,” Ryan said.

“Oh my god,” the professor said. “You’re such a fucking brat.” 

“You said that in class,” Ryan said, and he was grinning.

“I didn’t use those exact words,” said the professor, and now he was out of view. 

He was… he was doing something.

Ryan could hear rustling.

And then something cold and smooth was touching his ass.

There was a crack, and then a line of fire across his ass, and he was… it was a belt.

He was being belted.

How about that?

Ryan was noticing that from a long way off, as his cock began to twitch, as the hits just… rained down.

It hurt.

It hurt, but it was… it was good, it was _better_ then good, it was enough to make his eyes cross, to make his whole everything shake. 

He was going to cum from this.

“You’re a brat, and I can’t fucking stand it. If you just applied the energy that you use for… ghosts and demons and all of that bullshit, maybe you’d do so much better!” 

Another hit.

A hard, cracking hit, and his cock was twitching harder. 

The professor was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong with ghosts?”

“They’re fucking ghosts,” the professor snapped, and there was another, hard hit, and Ryan was seeing _stars_. 

Dancing fucking stars. 

“They don’t exist,” the professor said.

Another hit.

“They do!”

Another hit.

“There’s no proof!” 

Yet another hit. 

And then the professor was pressed real close, his sensible pants pressed against Ryan’s hot, bruised ass, his cock hard, and it was grinding.

“I’ll fuck you,” the professor said. 

“Do you have, like… lube?”

“I’ve got lube,” said the professor. “I just need to get it.”

“Why do you keep lube in your office?”

“For a whole bunch of reasons,” said the professor, “most of which are none of your business. Stay there.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, and the professor was in his field of vision again, getting a little bottle of lube and a condom.

“Not going anywhere,” said Ryan, and he was shaking, as he heard the professor unzip his pants, then the customary rip of the condom packet, then… god, there were cold, lubed up fingers tracing along his hole.

He shuddered, and the enormity of the situation sunk in.

He was about to get fucked by his professor.

“You froze up. Why’d you freeze up?”

“I’m fine,” said Ryan, and that was mostly true. 

“If you say so,” said the professor, and then… there was a finger inside of Ryan. 

A finger inside of Ryan, a finger covered by a condom, and then another finger.

He was being fucked open by the professor, and he was grinding back against it, panting heavily.

“God,” the professor said his voice thick, “you’re… fuck.”

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” said Ryan, because he had to say something.

The fingers inside of him twisted, and he sobbed, pressing his forehead into the desk.

He had his hands in his hair, twisting them, biting into his fingers like wire.

Oh god.

He’d been fucked, he’d been taken, he’d bent over like this, but… fuck.

It was different. 

It was very good. 

It was… god, the professor had the longest fingers Ryan had ever experienced, and then he was… oh fuck.

There was a cock, pressing against Ryan’s thigh, and there were fingers, filling him up, thrusting, right against his prostate.

He could barely find it himself half the time, and here was the professor, finding it with pinpoint accuracy. 

It was… it was all something. 

It was all something beyond words, and then the fingers were removed, and the head of the professor’s cock was pressing against his hole.

“I’m not gonna push it in any farther, until you say that ghosts aren’t real,” the professor said. 

“What?! That’s not fair!” 

“It’s totally fair,” said the professor. “It’s my cock. I can do what I want with it.”

“I mean, technically, yes, but… god….”

The professor’s cock was just… pressing.

Pressing, gently, barely breeching, but… oh god, it was making Ryan’s eyes cross.

The professor’s hand was on the back of his head, forcing it down.

“I’m running out of patience. Say it.”

“Patience?”

“I can jerk off by myself. Hell, I can probably cum just from remembering what you look like, with your ass covered in bruises.” 

“You’re a sicko, aren’t you?”

“And you’re willing to put up with it. So who’s the sicko now, hm?”

A little roll of the hips, nudged a little further, then… withdrawn.

Ryan was going to sob.

Oh god.

“Let’s try again. Are ghosts real?”

“... maybe?”

“Almost good enough.”

Another nudge, and then the professor was pressing closer, and his hand was coming around to grab Ryan’s cock, squeezing it. 

“Ghosts… aren’t real,” Ryan mumbled, and goddamn but that hurt.

But… oh fuck, no, that… that didn’t hurt.

That was fucking perfect.

A long, hard, tight squeeze, and Ryan gasped, because the professor’s cock was twitching inside of him, and it was… fucking him.

Ryan was being fucked by his professor.

“See, like this, I like you,” the professor said, right in his ear, and his whole body was rocking, was _shaking_ , as Professor Madej’s hips drove him forward, fucking him into the desk. 

“Mm?”

Ryan was clutching the other side of the desk, and the professor was fucking him, and he was… sobbing.

He was shaking, his knees going weak, and he was humping back against it, practically drooling.

“I like you quiet like this,” said the professor, and then… oh god, the professor’s arm was coming around him, and the professor’s fingers were shoved into Ryan’s mouth.

Ryan sucked on the professor’s fingers, as they pressed down on his tongue, and the professor moaned harder, his cock was beginning to throb.

“It’s been too fucking long,” the professor growled, and he was moaning into Ryan’s ear. “Fuck… you’re so tight, god, Ryan, I’ve… been thinking about this too fucking long. Don’t… oh... god!”

Ryan’s cock was beginning to twitch, beginning to throb in the professor’s hand, and the professor was jerking it, beginning to jerk it _faster_ , squeezing the base, smearing pre all along the length of it.

“Gonna cum for me, Ryan? C’mon, cum for me, your ass bruised up, take it from your professor, just… take it, take it, fuck….”

The professor was into this.

… in fairness, so was Ryan, but… god, this might have been the most illicit thing Ryan had ever done.

He was being fucked over a professor’s desk, by the fucking professor.

Oh fuck.

Oh, fuck, he was… already so close, how was he so close, he usually had better stamina than this, but… fuck… he was… going….

Ryan cried out, and he came across the professor’s hand, onto the professor’s desk, and it was… it was a mess, a wet, sticky mess, but the professor dug his teeth into Ryan’s shoulder, through Ryan’s t-shirt, and then… fuck, then the professor was fucking him harder, so much harder.

The professor came inside of Ryan, with a throb and a gasp.

“Fuck,” said the professor, his sweaty forehead against Ryan’s temple, his mouth wet and hot.

His tie was downright ticklish, even through Ryan’s t-shirt.

“We just did,” said Ryan, and he was snickering in spite of himself.

“Well,” said the professor, “at least we know you’re still a brat.”

“Could’ve told you that,’ said Ryan.

“I’ll beat you harder next time,” said the professor, and he pulled out, carefully. “I’ll hit you twice as hard, if you come when it’s not my office hours.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ryan said, his legs still shaking, his ass throbbing in time with his heart. 

That... wasn’t expected, but it was sweeter than the light as gold as honey. 

It was… it was good. 

It was very, very good.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


End file.
